Free Star Trek: The Original Series: Seasons of Light and Darkness by Michael A. Martin

interpreted as constituting at least a technical violation of Subteer Usaak’s weapons policy.”
    After pausing to take another swallow directly from the bottle, McCoy said, “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But I wasn’t the one who smuggled the sword into the feast. Besides, Spock, you have to remember how the Capellans think about weapons. To a Capellan warrior, a sword is a weapon. A dagger or a kligat is a weapon. But a little gray cylinder that doesn’t even have a cutting edge . . . well, that’s a lightningbeast of a whole different color.”
    â€œIndeed. But how did you determine the appropriate dosage?”
    â€œI’m a doctor,” McCoy said, slightly nettled by the question. “I made my best guess.”
    â€œWere there any lingering aftereffects?”
    â€œWell, Doctor Wieland diagnosed me with a second concussion, if that’s what you mean. And when I came to in my tent the next morning, I had a sore hip and a bad sprain in my right wrist.”
    â€œI was referring to the Capellan warrior you anesthetized,” Spock clarified, as though lecturing an obtuse cadet.
    â€œHuuk came through that little misunderstanding like a champ. You know from firsthand experience how tough the Capellans can be, Spock. It’s damned difficult to kill a Capellan on purpose, much less by accident.”
    Spock’s curiosity overcame his reticence. “According to my understanding of Capellan courtship customs, Huuk was required to try to kill anyone who accepted an offering of food from a closely related Capellan female.”
    Nodding, McCoy said, “His sister, in this case. Because I accepted Jeen’s token, I was obliged to accept Huuk’s.”
    â€œThe ‘gift of combat,’ ” Spock said, his words colored by an understated yet obvious feeling of distaste.
    â€œOh, come on, Spock. You’re a fine one to talk. I was one of the groomsmen at your wedding, remember? You Vulcans can swing sharp objects with the best of ’em.”
    â€œVulcans take no pleasure in such things,” Spock said.
    Realizing he might have gone a little too far, McCoy tried for a graceful backpedal. “Point taken, Spock. Sorry.”
    â€œGiven the length of your stay on Capella IV, I am surprised that you and Lieutenant Plait were so inadequately prepared for indigenous social situations,” Spock said, neatly sidestepping both the insult and the apology.
    With a shrug that offered no excuses, McCoy said, “Sometimes we humans have to learn these things the hard way.”
    â€œAnd what became of Lieutenant Plait?”
    â€œFortunately for him, Huuk had also had a fair amount to drink that night,” McCoy said. “Enough to blot most of the evening’s unpleasantness from his memory.”
    Spock nodded. “Alcohol-induced amnesia.”
    McCoy took another swallow from his bottle as he prepared to deliver the next portion of his narrative.
    â€œYeah,” he said. “Lucky bastard.”

Nine
    CAPELLA IV
    Stardate 813.8 (November 16, 2254)
    The twin suns had already risen by the time McCoy exited the small tent that the landing party used both as a lab and as a makeshift storage depot. Although Lieutenants Plait and Girard both continued to make considerable use of the cramped space to perform their ongoing analysis of the planet’s geological potential, McCoy was coming to realize that he preferred to work in his own tent. He’d noticed weeks earlier that Doctor Wieland had been avoiding the work tent as well, probably for much the same reason.
    Stacks of boxes sat gathering dust in that tent, a galling reminder that the medical aspect of the Alpha Aurigae mission was on a slow glide path to certain failure. An abundance of perfectly serviceable medical supplies lay neglected and ignored, unused for no better reason than the indulgence of a warrior society’s ingrained superstitions and